It was the same beach where we’d met. We searched for the exact place where we had stood to watch the sunset, letting our feet sink slowly into the soft, golden sand.
Footprints trailed behind us side by side as we walked down to the breakwater. Enormous slabs of roughhewn granite had been hauled from the quarry to the shore and heaped in a long line that stretched into the water. There they had lain ever since. Waves broke against the stones, diffusing their energy and keeping the harbor safe. We climbed out onto them, helping each other along with slower steps than we had taken the last time we were here. The years had certainly worn us down a little, but mostly they had smoothed out our sharp edges. Chilly wind swept across the end of the breakwater, and you nestled into my side for warmth as we rested before heading back.
By the time our toes were back in the sand, high tide had come in, sweeping away our earlier footprints. So we made new ones. Hand in hand, we watched the sun set over the ocean once more. The vast, glittering sea lapped gently at our feet.